


One Step Back

by longleggedgit



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-09
Updated: 2010-06-09
Packaged: 2017-10-10 00:26:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/93255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longleggedgit/pseuds/longleggedgit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abe is pissed, and he's not sure why, but somehow it's Mihashi's fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Step Back

**Author's Note:**

> Written on a whim after marathoning the entire series again because season two is so magical. ♥ No real defined point of time in the series, so you could set it anywhere it works in your personal canon. Spoiler-free. Thanks to aunt_agatha over on LJ for looking it over for me!

Abe is pissed and it's no secret to anyone, if the way the team tiptoes around him all practice is any indicator. What's more mysterious is what exactly he's pissed _about_, but thankfully no one's stupid enough to ask. Abe's not sure he could define it himself, and if he thinks about that too long he just gets madder.

What he does know is that Mihashi is making it worse.

"I told you to stop making your expressions so damn readable!" Abe snarls, twisting his mitt in his hands as he stalks up to the pitcher's mound. "We're going to get annihilated next game if you don't at least make an effort!"

Mihashi curls in on himself, like if he tries hard enough he'll be able to hide inside his mitt, and Abe feels the spark in his chest get even closer to the quick, just shy of exploding. His voice goes deadly low when he says, "Are you even _trying_ to do what I tell you?"

Hanai intercedes then, and it's a good thing because Mihashi's only response is to blink at Abe and tremble and Abe actually thinks for one terrifying moment he might hit him. But the rage fades after a few seconds and he's able to focus on what Hanai is saying:

"That's enough for today, I think. Maybe you two should go in and shower early." Hanai has started acting more like a real captain with some real authority lately, which Abe is generally grateful for but just now finds incredibly annoying.

"Whatever you say." Abe leaves the mound without a backward glance, ignoring the stares of his teammates as he storms past, and he knows without having to look that Mihashi follows not far after. Abe ignores him in the locker room when he's stripping out of his sweat-soaked clothes, and he ignores him in the showers, which isn't hard because he can only bear to stand under the water for about ten seconds before turning it off again and toweling dry as quickly as possible. Mihashi never says a word but he's so loud anyway; Abe wants to scream he's so loud.

Everyone else is starting to file inside right as Abe leaves. He nods brusquely to Hanai on the way out without exchanging another word, but of course Momokan stops him before he can get more than two steps away from the clubhouse.

"Abe," she calls sharply. Abe stops but doesn't quite lift his eyes to meet hers.

Momokan's voice is as serious as he's ever heard it when she says, "You're going to need to take a step back and figure out what the problem is here, because one way or another, it has to stop. Soon."

He's expecting more but that appears to be it, because then she falls silent. Abe mutters a quiet "I understand" even though he absolutely doesn't and continues on his way, desperate to be in his bedroom, where maybe things won't make any more sense than they do here but at least he won't have people like Mihashi around to muddle everything up.

The problem is, even after he gets home, the feeling only gets worse. It twists and swells in his gut all through dinner so he has to stop eating and excuse himself halfway through, and he spends the next hour on the bathroom floor convinced he's going to be sick.

"You're working yourself too hard," his mother lectures through the door, and Abe can only think, _You have no idea._

By the time everyone else has gone to sleep, Abe finally manages to drag himself to his own bed, and he lies there for what feels like the entire night before picking up his phone and checking the time. 12:30.

He calls Mihashi.

"Can you meet me at the field?" Abe asks without thinking, numbly surprised Mihashi even had the nerve to pick up.

"S-sure," Mihashi says. Abe hangs up, pulls on a sweatshirt and slips out with practiced quiet, trying to ignore the way his throat starts to tighten up as he walks, getting progressively worse and worse until the school is at last in sight and he can barely breathe.

Mihashi is already there waiting for him, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and jeans even despite the chill in the air and obviously doing his damnedest not to swallow his own tongue.

"Thanks for coming," Abe says. Mihashi shifts his feet, half-nods, looks down. Abe almost grabs him by the shoulders and starts to shake right then, or maybe something even more dangerous, but he resists and starts to walk instead. Mihashi follows and they end up next to the dugout, staring down at the tracks from their shoes in the dirt made hours earlier.

Abe takes it upon himself to break the silence just when it's starting to ring too loudly in his ears. "You must get angry sometimes. When I yell at you, like I did today."

At first, Mihashi just quietly but obviously panics. Abe was expecting as much so he doesn't react. Then the quivering pauses and Mihashi manages to stammer, "I—should be yelled at when I do things wrong, so—"

And there's the switch flicked on again. Abe flares up like a firework, grabbing Mihashi by the shirt collar and throwing him against the wall of the dugout like he's only daydreamed about doing until now. Mihashi closes his eyes and even through his rage Abe has time to notice how he doesn't look scared so much as anticipatory, his shoulders tensed much the way they get right before the start of a new defensive inning.

"You know that's not true," Abe says, tightening his fist in Mihashi's collar and shaking him a little. "Damn it, Mihashi, you _know_ it."

"I—don't," Mihashi says. Abe thinks that's all, but suddenly Mihashi swallows and goes on, probably drawing on every reserve of courage in his body. "I don't know what you want me to do, sometimes. But when I do what you tell me, everything works."

Mihashi's lips are looking extremely dry, which he must notice because he wets them before going on. "You fix everything," he says, voice even smaller than usual. "I—don't know why you help me, but—you do."

It's so wrong Abe laughs, not intending to sound cruel but maybe doing so anyway, judging by Mihashi's chagrined expression.

"You don't even know how far off base you are, do you?" Abe sighs, releasing his hold on Mihashi's collar and leaning forward until his forehead rests on Mihashi's shoulder. It's a huge, frightening shift and Abe's stomach is ready to jump out his mouth, but Mihashi only tenses for as long as is ordinary before going strangely relaxed.

_You still think you're the one being saved._ Abe laughs again and starts to shake his head, but then Mihashi's hand drops gently between his shoulder blades and Abe freezes.

"Is this okay?" Abe says when he can speak again. He hopes, prays to whatever fucked-up powers that be that Mihashi understands this is one question he can't dance around the answer to; this is one time when nothing but the absolute truth will suffice.

"It's okay," Mihashi says, almost without pause, his breath making the skin stand up on Abe's neck. And Abe acts almost without pause too, taking Mihashi's free hand and running a thumb over the increasingly familiar calluses there, willing his heart to slow down to a normal rate because things are going to be okay now. They're going to be okay or they're going to get a lot worse, but either way, Momokan was right. Something has to change.

And maybe things already have, because Mihashi doesn't tremble or close up, doesn't retreat to whatever place he usually hides inside himself when he's terrified; instead, after another brief hesitation, he brushes his thumb over Abe's in return, clenches a fistful of Abe's shirt in his other hand. It's a small change, but whether whatever has been lurking in Abe's chest has been stopped in its tracks or gone off, Abe doesn't mind. It's enough.


End file.
